


Tall Tales

by buzzbuzz34



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Holidays, M/M, Mutual Pining, One-Sided Attraction, Worms, mistletoe as a plot device
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21781513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buzzbuzz34/pseuds/buzzbuzz34
Summary: Tim has a crush on Martin.  Martin has a crush on Jon.  Tim has a plan - he and Martin can pretend to date to make Jon jealous while Tim gets to pretend that he's dating Martin.  Everyone wins.That is, until new feelings start to develop and their fake relationship isn't quite so fake anymore.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Comments: 39
Kudos: 114





	1. The Plan

Tim was tired. Annoyed. A little bit frustrated. He had to sit, every day, and watch Martin at the desk across from him stare at Jon with the biggest, most adorable lovesick look on his face. Jon seemed oblivious and that only bothered Tim all the more. 

Martin was incredible; clever, loyal, sweet, nice, funny, handsome… Yet he’d fallen for someone who barely gave him a second glance and often acted excessively rude toward him. 

It would be one thing if Jon treated Martin well. Tim would still be jealous, of course, but if Martin was happy and treasured the way he deserved, Tim could manage. 

As Jon walked by and out of the assistant’s room, Tim couldn’t help but wish Martin would look at _him_ like that, even once.

“I have an idea,” Tim said as he crossed the space between them and leaned against Martin’s desk.

“Oh?” Martin broke from his stupor. “About Case 01-”

“No, about you and Jon.”

Martin blushed, and Tim did his best to try and ignore how it made butterflies start to flutter in his stomach. 

“I’m sorry?” Martin asked.

“You and Jon. C’mon, Martin, everyone knows that you’re basically in love with him, and that he’s absurdly oblivious, or at least acting that way.”

“I, um… I don’t… uh…”

“That’s what I thought.” Tim smirked. “So, I have a plan. A foolproof way to get him to notice you and finally fall for you back.”

Martin opened his mouth to protest, but instead acquiesced. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’s this genius plan of yours?”

“Pretend to date me.”

“What!?”

“It works every time. It’ll make him jealous. He sees that you’re okay without him, that you don’t have to wait for him, and he’ll _have_ to win you over. We stage a messy breakup after a while and then he’s the one there to comfort you. Bam. Instant success.”

“You’ve… done this before, then?”

“I mean, not exactly, not myself, but I know it works,” Tim replied. “And, with all due respect, what do you have to lose?”

At that, Martin shrugged and nodded. “You know what? That’s a fair point. But… why are you helping me? Why are you doing this?”

“Me? Because it is _exhausting_ sitting over there watching you pine away. Maybe you two will be insufferable when you get together, but it really can’t be much worse than seeing you wither away with your feelings unreciprocated,” Tim explained. 

What he said was indeed true, but it also wasn’t the _whole_ truth.

He knew Martin was smitten with Jon and that his own chances with Martin were therefore rather slim. This way, he could have a few moments, even if they were all fake, where _he_ could be Martin’s boyfriend, he could be the object of his attention, where he could pretend that he would know how it felt to have his own feelings reciprocated. 

And, when the plan worked and Martin got with Jon, Martin would be happy. Happy with someone else, but happy nonetheless. Martin deserved to be happy, and Tim wanted to facilitate that in whatever way he could, even if he had an ulterior motive under it all. 

Martin kind of stuttered, never really completing a thought, before shrugging again. “Yeah, alright.”

“Really? I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect you to go for this.”

“Why not? If it works like you think it will, then maybe he’ll finally notice me. If not, it should make for some fun times and a good story.”

Tim grinned. “Fair enough. So, I was thinking-”

Before Tim could finish, the door burst open and Jon appeared in the threshold, files in his arms and looking as frazzled as usual.

The split-second he appeared, Martin reached out and grabbed Tim’s hand so that they rested together on top of the desk.

“Martin, I need you to do follow-up on this case,” Jon said and plopped a stack of paperwork onto the desk. As he did so, his eyes landed on the pair’s clasped hands. He hesitated only briefly, then sighed lightly. “And Tim, don’t you have leads to check in on regarding the last Salesa case?”

“Waiting for a call back, boss,” Tim answered flatly. 

“Right.” With that, Jon turned and left, shutting the door behind him.

Martin let out a heavy breath once he was gone and removed his hand from Tim’s. The absence was staggering, but Tim kept his cool.

“Well,” Tim continued, “what I was getting to before we were so rudely interrupted was little moments of PDA to make things more obvious, but I think we’ve already started off pretty well with that.”

Martin blushed again and chuckled. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be! It’s all good. I figured that when we all get drinks on Friday to, you know, celebrate another month anniversary after almost getting killed by worms, we could hold hands on the way in, maybe an arm around the shoulders here and there? Is that okay? I don’t want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

“Yeah, that’s all good. I think I can manage holding your hand again.” Martin smirked.

“I’m just making sure.”

“And I do appreciate that. But, honestly, as long as you don’t just casually try to make out with me, I’m okay with whatever. That’s more than I’m comfortable with for our fake relationship.”

“Alright, I can work with that,” Tim said, hoping the giddiness he felt wasn’t apparent in his voice. “A kiss on the cheek here and there, that’s fine?”

“I can think of far worse people to kiss, Tim.”

Was Tim the one blushing now? He felt his face get hot and his heart beat a little faster, that much was undeniable. The thought of kissing Martin…

Keep it together, Tim. Keep it cool.

“If anything crosses a line, I’ll let you know,” Martin added. “This is going to be interesting. I’m not sure how it’ll work, but, hey, it should be fun.”

Tim laughed and headed back to his own desk. “I hope so.”


	2. The Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Archives crew goes out for drinks to celebrate another month after surviving Jane Prentiss' attack. Tim and Martin make their first appearance as a couple to their coworkers.

Nobody remembered who had suggested the idea, but they all begrudgingly went along with it. Every month after the attack by Jane Prentiss, on the anniversary of the day, the crew of the Archives would go out together for a drink. Elias had even shown up once. It was supposed to be an opportunity to get to know each other better after they almost died, but mostly, everyone sat quietly, barely making small talk, had one drink, and then headed on their way. 

However, Tim decided it was an excellent opportunity to introduce himself and Martin as a couple to their few coworkers. Which was really just Jon and Sasha, but all the same; it was a group outing, and he and Martin would show up together. _Together,_ together. It was a moderately significant thing to show off in front of Jon, which would only get that jealousy ball rolling. Even if Tim had his own ulterior motives for this fake relationship with Martin, he did sincerely hope that his method would work and get Martin and Jon together, because then Martin would be happy, and that was the most important thing.

So, Tim met Martin outside the tube station a few blocks away from the bar and greeted him with a smile. 

After the pleasantries and they started on their way, Tim gently took Martin’s hand. Martin let out a small gasp, as if he’d forgotten their plan, but then he remembered, and they fell into a casual rhythm together. 

“What if they ask questions? About how we got together and all that?” Martin queried. 

“I think Sasha will be more curious than Jon will,” Tim admitted. “But we tell them the truth – it all started at work, we started meeting up outside of the Archives, and now here are.”

“Right.” 

It wasn’t much farther to the bar, and they met their coworkers at a corner table soon enough. Sasha and Jon sat on opposite sides of the table, and Tim overheard something about how they were _not_ going to talk about work, these meetups weren’t for that. They each had a drink in hand already. 

Martin took a seat, and Tim told him, “I’ll go get us drinks. You want a Smithwick’s, yeah?”

Tim hadn’t intended to memorize Martin’s usual drink order from the few other times they’d been out together, but it came so easily to the front of his mind. Martin blinked slowly and his eyebrows creased the slightest amount, but he pushed the strangeness of the situation away and nodded.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Tim returned to the table with two drinks in hand. As he set the pint in front of Martin, he said, “Here you are, love.”

Martin blushed and immediately took a long sip of his drink, partially to hide his face, while Tim took a seat. Once they all had some alcohol in them, the conversation flowed a little easier, but there were still plenty of awkward silences, and the stares that came from Jon were only amplified when Tim placed his arm around the back of Martin’s chair. There was a curiosity in Jon’s eyes. Meanwhile, across the table, Sasha’s face lit up and there were clearly dozens of excited questions on her tongue. 

Before she got the chance to ask any of them, though, Martin’s phone began to ring. He glanced at the screen, then excused himself. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to take this.”

Martin stepped outside for a few minutes and grabbed his things when he returned. 

“I’ve got to go, I’m sorry,” he murmured as he threw on his coat. “It’s my mum… anyway. I’ll see everyone on Monday.” 

Before he headed out the door, he leaned over to Tim and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, and then he was gone. 

Tim hadn’t expected much initiation from Martin, given that he had no emotional investment in this fake relationship, and especially given how he’d been crushing on Jon for ages and still hadn’t said anything. But this… Tim could barely shake the feeling of Martin’s lips on his skin when Sasha spoke. 

“So, you and Martin, huh?” She leaned slightly over the table and grinned. 

“Yeah.” Tim shrugged, trying to pass it off as casually as possible. 

“Since when?”

“It hasn’t been too terrible long. A few weeks since things have been, you know, ‘official.’”

Jon squinted at Tim. “What are you playing at, Tim?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Martin doesn’t seem your type. I’m just wondering what your angle is.”

While Tim believed that Jon’s words showed the beginnings of the jealousy this fake relationship was meant to create, he couldn’t ignore the jab at himself. 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Tim said flatly and set his glass down a little harder than intended. 

“Every time I hear about one of your relationships, it’s done to get more information for a case, or it’s just for fun. You have a bit of a reputation,” Jon explained, not meeting Tim’s gaze. “You’re kind of a playboy, a flirt, and I just don’t know what you’re playing at, but-”

Sasha interrupted, “Jon, that’s uncalled for.”

“My relationships are my business,” Tim snapped. “Yeah, I flirt my way to get more information, I have casual flings here and there, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t have serious feelings too. I want Martin to be happy, is that so wrong?”

“Perhaps I misspoke-”

“No, I think you said exactly what you meant to, mate.”

Both Tim and Jon took excessively long drinks to try and format their thoughts and stop themselves from saying something to make the situation any worse, and Sasha glanced between the two of them cautiously. 

Jon’s beer was almost done, and he downed what was left of it. “Well, um… I think I’m going to head out too. I will, uh, see you both on Monday.”

Sasha said some impassively polite farewell, but Tim offered nothing. Once Jon was gone, Sasha scooted a little closer. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, it’s whatever.” 

“Tim…”

Tim looked up at her and smiled sympathetically. “Really, I’m alright. He pissed me off, but that’s nothing new.”

“You’re right, you know, that how you go about your relationships is your business. Don’t let what he said get to you.”

“I don’t plan to.”

“Good.” Sasha smiled, checked her watch, and then finished her drink as well. “I’m sorry to bail, but I’ve got to head out too.”

“No worries. I got your tab.”

“Wait, really?” Sasha teased, “I should get you upset more often if you’ll buy my drinks for me.”

“Don’t push your luck.” Tim smirked, and then Sasha left the bar as well. 

Alone, now, Tim sidled up to the bar proper, and ordered himself another drink, a stronger one this time. 

The fact that Jon saw him as a playboy who was only using Martin for some exterior gain… that irked him to no end. But the most painful part was that he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Tim _was_ using Martin. He was selfishly concealing his affection just so that he could pretend Martin reciprocated his feelings. 

At the same time, though, Tim meant what he said. It was all about Martin’s happiness. In vague terms, his statement was entirely factual; Martin would be happy with Jon, and Tim could take some small happiness in the fake moments in between. 

As he finished off one drink and headed onto the next, his spiral of worry and self-hatred was interrupted when Tim remembered how it felt when Martin had kissed him, the way their hands had fit together as they wove through the streets… For a just a few moments just like that, Tim could handle anything. 


	3. The Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monday rolls around, and Tim has a hard time reining in his feelings.

“Oh no!” 

The quiet cry came from the small breakroom, and Tim stopped as he passed it by, ducking his head in. When he saw that it was Martin, holding his hand tight and wincing, he quickly stepped over to him. 

“What happened?” Tim asked. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I just burned myself a little.” Beside him on the counter sat a spilled cup of tea. 

“Let me get some ice.” Tim was already on his way to the freezer when Martin started to protest.

“It’s really not that bad. But, well… thank you,” Martin acquiesced when Tim placed a cloth-wrapped ice cube on his burned fingers. Tim continued to hold it in place, gently rubbing the back of Martin’s hand as he did so, and smiled softly when Martin met his gaze. 

There was no one around; no need to pretend for the sake of their fake relationship. Tim hadn’t even considered that it might seem out of place when he acted – he’d only wanted to help Martin out and ease whatever pain he might have. That Martin didn’t back away or make some excuse, but instead allowed Tim to care for him and hold his hand long after the ice had done its trick, made Tim’s heart beat a little faster. 

And when he removed the rag, set it aside, and then moved Martin’s hand to his lips so that he could press a soft kiss to the burn, Tim didn’t think at all. It seemed the only thing to do, the best comfort he could provide at that point, the softest way in which he could help. 

Martin giggled and bit his lip, his cheeks bright red. It was only after Tim saw this reaction that he realized how ridiculous and out of place his behavior was, at which point he started to laugh as well. 

“Sorry,” he muttered. 

“It’s fine. Kisses make all injuries get better fast, right?”

“That’s what they say,” Tim replied with a breathy chuckle. “Seemed like a good time to test it out.”

“Well, I think it might be working. Or maybe it’s the ice? Eh, doesn’t matter.”

They were both laughing, smiling, and blushing when a knock sounded on the doorframe to the room. Tim hadn’t even realized that he was still holding onto Martin’s hand until they stepped apart at the interruption and suddenly his grip was empty again. 

“I’m sorry to intrude,” Jon said, an awkward look on his face, “but, Tim, I was wondering if I could have a word?”

After the words Jon had shared during their wormiversary drink session on Saturday, Tim had no interest in hearing any more. 

“If this is about the Salesa case, I still haven’t heard back from-”

“It’s not.”

Tim sighed, then briefly glanced back at Martin, who had begun mopping up the spilled tea, before nodding and following Jon out of the room. 

Once they were in the hallway, Tim spun to face Jon. 

“I want to, uh, apologize for what I said the other day,” Jon stated.

Tim did his best to hide the shock that Jon could actually feel _sorry_ for something and allowed him to continue.

“I had some misconceptions, and it was wrong of me to attack you like that.”

“Well, thank you. And, listen, you're not entirely wrong to call me out, I guess. I’m glad you’re worried about Martin,” Tim admitted. “I’m glad he has people who care about him and are looking out for him. But I just-”

“I know.” Jon smiled slightly. “Just make sure you keep him happy, yeah?”

Tim nodded and let out a heavy exhale. Then, Jon turned and headed on his way. 

His head was racing as he stepped back into the breakroom. It seemed like Jon had some feelings for Martin as well, enough that this whole fake relationship thing could probably end and set him and Martin up relatively easily. Even though that filled Tim with its own form of regret - it had only been a few days! - he would keep to the plan, no matter how quickly along it might move. 

“Are _you_ alright?” Martin asked this time, noting the way Tim’s face scrunched up. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied unconvincingly. 

Martin handed him a full mug of tea. “What happened?”

“It’s not important…”

“It is, if it’s bothering you.”

Tim sighed and smiled slightly. “Jon and I had a… spat on Saturday, after you left. He apologized but I’m still a little…” He waved his hand to demonstrate his mixed emotions. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. It’s… fine, really. A little tense, still, but fine. Though,” Tim added, ignoring his own feelings, “you should really go check in with Jon. He’s worried about you-”

“Worried about me?”

“About you being with me.” Tim pushed past the confused and protesting look on Martin’s face. “And it’s obvious he likes you, so, you should go talk to him. Especially while things are a little rocky. Be there for him while he’s potentially having an internal dilemma, that sort of thing.”

Martin opened his mouth to speak, but eventually he just grabbed the tea he’d made for himself and leaned against the counter beside Tim.

“That’s all well and good, but I think I’d rather make sure you’re okay.”

Tim inhaled sharply, then nodded and relaxed enough so that his arm brushed gently against Martin’s. 

“Do you want to talk about it, or talk about something else?” Martin asked. 

“Anything else, honestly,” Tim laughed. “But we’ve got tea and I’ve got you, so I can’t imagine I’ll be upset for too long.”

Martin grinned. “I’m happy to help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see all of your lovely comments and I thank you so much for leaving them!! I want to make proper replies to each of them but I'm doing a lot of holiday family stuff right now, so they'll be a little delayed, but I will get to them! And, sincerely, thank you all for reading and leaving kudos and comments, it means so much to me <3


	4. The Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been months since Martin was trapped in his flat with Jane Prentiss and her army of worms outside the door. But some nights, he can still hear them scrabbling to get in, and it all feels so real...

It was late, and it was foolish, but Martin couldn’t stop himself from grabbing his phone and punching up the number. The dial tone was so loud, blaring and increasing the hectic pace of Martin’s heartbeat as he kept his eyes locked on the door of his flat. 

When Tim answered, it felt like a weight was lifted. 

“Martin? What’s up?”

“I know it’s late and it’s stupid but…”

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“I’m fine, I think… I… Would it be okay if I came and spent the night at your house?”

There was a small pause, but before Martin could explain more, Tim had already answered, “Sure. I’ll text you my address.”

“Thank you,” Martin breathed with relief. “I just… I keep thinking that she’s back, that the worms are going to get in, that-”

“Oh, shit. Yeah, absolutely, of course you can stay here,” Tim replied when he understood the depths of Martin’s request. “Do you want me to come to your place and walk you over? Or call you a ride, or…?”

“No, I can get there fine. Thank you, Tim, I really, _really_ appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah. Bye.”

Martin threw together a backpack full of essentials and clothes for the following day, then, hands shaking and ears full of the sounds he’d heard those days with Jane Prentiss and her army of worms clawing at the entrance to his home, he darted out the door and raced onto the street. With a corkscrew clutched so tightly in his hand that it dug into his skin, he made for the address Tim had sent him, walking as fast as possible without it turning into a run. 

Only once Tim had beckoned him into his home did Martin really breathe and release his grip on the corkscrew. Tim watched him with sympathy and worry. 

“Are you okay?”

Martin nodded, his arms still wrapped tightly around his sides. “I’m sorry about this,” he said quietly. “I just couldn’t stay there. It felt so real, like Prentiss was right there, that she was going to get me this time, that…”

Tim stepped closer to him, holding out a hand as if he wanted to put it on Martin’s shoulder, to tug him in closer, to comfort him, but then hesitated, unsure if Martin could handle the contact at that moment. Truthfully, Martin was grateful he pulled back, but appreciated the gesture all the same. 

“It’s alright, Martin,” Tim said with a soft smile. “You’re welcome here whenever, whether or not you’re having flashbacks to the time a worm lady trapped you in your own flat.”

Martin let out a breathy chuckle and smiled back. “Thank you. You were the first person I thought to call, I…” Noticing the surprise on Tim’s face, he explained, “Well, who else would I ask? I don’t know Sasha all that well, and Jon would probably laugh at me or make some dismissive remark, and, uh… it’s not like I know that many other people, so…”

“Sorry,” Tim remarked, and Martin shrugged. 

“It’s fine. I’m just… thank you. Again. I’ll probably thank you another hundred times or so,” he laughed. 

“Well, you’re welcome.”

At this, Martin’s eyes migrated over to the countertop. “Are those… corkscrews?”

“Oh, yeah. When you explained what was happening, I ran down to the corner store and bought as many kinds as I could.”

Martin almost felt like Tim was mocking him, until he continued, “I know it’s probably silly, but I know you kept one with you all the time while you were stuck staying at the Archives, so I thought… maybe they’d help now? I already have a fire extinguisher, and... I don't know.”

“I appreciate the thought,” Martin said honestly, before reaching out and grabbing a particularly hefty corkscrew from the several sprawled out on the space. “I think I’ll hold onto this one, if you don’t mind. At the very least I could hit a worm with the handle.” He mimed smacking a miniscule invader with the thick, wooden base. 

“Whatever works.” After a short pause, Tim offered, “So, you’re welcome to sleep wherever. I’ve got a comfy couch, or if you want the bed, you can have it, whatever works, whatever makes you feel safest.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Maybe not. But I want to.”

Martin smiled and felt a little warmth creep into his cheeks. “The couch will be more than fine. Don’t worry about me. I’ll stay out of the way, go back to whatever it was that you were doing before I interrupted.”

Tim scoffed. “I was just messing around on Twitter, you know, the usual. I was actually about to get ready for bed.”

“I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“Martin, you’re fine,” he stressed. “Do you want a drink or something?”

Martin shook his head. “No, I think sleep sounds good, actually.”

His hands were still shaking as he accepted a pile of blankets and a pillow from Tim so that he could make up the couch appropriately for the night. Tim watched him with concern; a well warranted concern, since Martin now clutched two corkscrews tightly and kept glancing at the front door. 

“Wake me up if you need anything,” Tim said as he lingered on the threshold of his bedroom. “Anything at all. Really.”

“Thank you. I…”

Without thinking, Martin rushed toward him and pulled him into a tight embrace. A few tears trickled from his tightly-shut eyes and soaked into Tim’s shirt, but there was little he could do now to embarrass himself further. 

Tim hugged him back, caressing the back of his head and gently whispering that it was all okay, that he was there for him, that he was safe. 

Extracting himself from the warmth of Tim’s arms, Martin wiped his face and smiled. 

“Okay, before I apologize and thank you another twelve times, I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

Martin settled into his impromptu bed, casting a last look at the door to Tim’s townhouse, before shutting his eyes and letting a tentative sleep take him. Knowing that Tim was nearby filled him with a safety he hadn’t felt since before getting involved with Jane Prentiss and her army of corruption. As long as Tim was there, it would be okay.


	5. The Development

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With every night that Martin spends at Tim's house, some new feelings start to develop inside of him, and he isn't sure how to piece them all together or what they mean.

Staying at Tim’s house more than once was not part of Martin’s plan, but it became a rather constant occurrence. A few times a week, Martin would call him up and soon find himself settled into Tim’s couch, two corkscrews firmly clasped in his hands, and the reassuring presence of Tim nearby. Sometimes, Martin had only the faintest flashback, the vaguest memory of Jane Prentiss at his door, and he was already calling; maybe it was preemptive, maybe he only wanted to have Tim close, just in case. And as Martin soon became an impromptu roommate, a section of Tim’s closet and dresser had been cleared out to make space for some of Martin’s things, so that he didn’t have to worry about grabbing clothes and essentials when he made a midnight run across the city. 

There was something comforting about waking up in Tim’s house. Making breakfast with him, walking to work together, going through the simple routine of life… in and of itself, it all felt safe. He wasn’t sure how much he pretended anymore when he found himself smiling at Tim across the Archives or making him a cup of tea he didn’t ask for but Martin knew he needed. The way their hands brushed together, the way Tim put his hand on Martin’s back when they rummaged through files, the way Martin laced his arm through Tim’s as they walked to work, the way they laughed…

Martin didn’t know what kind of feelings these were, and he certainly wasn’t about to go investigating them. Pretending for the sake of a fake relationship or reflecting something more sincere… it didn’t really matter, did it? 

Whether or not this ‘fake dating’ thing was actually working to make Jon jealous, Martin hadn’t a clue. Whenever Jon interrupted Tim and Martin, even when they were just chatting innocuously, he got flustered and made quick excuses, but it was just as likely, if not more so, that he simply wanted no part of it. And if he _was_ jealous, there was no guarantee that he wasn’t jealous of someone being with Tim. That made more sense in Martin’s mind anyway. 

“Martin? A moment?”

Jon’s voice was curt and sharp, and he watched Martin thoroughly as he entered the office. 

“Yeah? What’s up?” 

Jon asked a series of questions about follow-up on a case regarding sentient trees, and Martin provided answers as best he could with limited information. Another fake tale, presumably. 

“Is everything alright?” Martin eventually questioned, noticing how Jon stared at him as if to try and pick him apart with his eyes. Jon looked terrible, like he hadn’t slept in days, or even showered properly.

“Yes. Yes, of course. Do you know where Tim is?”

For all Jon’s intellect, he was a terrible liar. However, Martin ignored that and focused on the last part of that statement.

“He should be here soon. He wasn’t feeling super great last night, so he was still in bed when I headed out…” Martin trailed off, realizing that this gave the impression that he and Tim were in fact sharing the same bed at night. They were occasionally sharing the same _house_ , sure, but this was an extra level of intimacy. Given how awkward Jon had gotten when he noticed that Martin and Tim were wearing each other’s ties one morning, this likely wouldn’t help matters. 

Jon hesitated, then gave a quick nod. “Right. Of course.”

The words were out of Martin’s mouth before he could stop himself. “Jon, you… you know we were just pre-”

“Pretending to date in order to make me jealous and help me realize my feelings for you?” Jon interrupted. “Yes, I’m aware.”

“Really?”

“I’m not entirely sure how,” Jon admitted. “But, yes. I figured it out a while ago. Regardless, you two seem happy together, and that is more important than the pretense.”

“I mean, it’s… there’s not like…” Martin stuttered, scratching the back of his head as his cheeks flushed. “I’ve been staying at Tim’s because I keep having worm flashbacks, not because of… anything else. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not my business… maybe it’s ‘nothing’ to you, but I don’t think it’s ‘nothing’ to Tim. He’s crazy about you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not sure how I figured out about this whole fake dating jealousy scheme, but it’s pretty clear to see how much Tim likes you. The way he looks at you across the room? The way he laughs when _you’re_ the one making him laugh? It’s obvious.”

Martin opened his mouth to reply, his fingers tightening on the folder he held. He stammered a few times, before forming a proper sentence. “Is there, uh, anything else you needed from me?”

“No, not right now. Though, do send Tim up when he gets in, will you?”

“Yeah, alright.”

With that, Martin quickly sped out of the room, milling Jon’s words over in his head alongside all of the moments he’d spent with Tim. Sure, it had all seemed a little excessive for the sake of a fake relationship, but it was _Tim_. Why would Tim like him? 

Martin settled into his desk and absentmindedly continued work on the variety of follow-ups Jon had assigned him. But as Tim dragged himself into work a few hours late, handing Martin a coffee from his favorite café and smiling with a sincerity that couldn’t be faked, Martin started to realize that it wasn’t ‘nothing’ to him either. 

It was so much more than that.


	6. The Complication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin spends another night at Tim's house and wakes up with an epiphany regarding his feelings.

There it was again – that scrabble at the door. Even headphones and every bit of determination couldn’t drown out the suffocating aura of Martin’s apartment or how it seemed the door would give way at any moment, unleashing a horde of worms and their sentient master upon him. 

“Tim?” Martin said quietly over the phone, clutching the corkscrew Tim had given him tightly in the other hand. “I’m sorry, but… can I stay there tonight?”

“Uhh…”

As he spoke, his throat tightened with fear. Where else could he go? “It’s okay if you’d rather not, of course. I’ve imposed enough.” 

“It’s not that, it’s-”

“Do you have company? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Martin’s heart sunk at the thought, though he didn’t know why. 

“No, it’s just that the heating has been rather temperamental today. It’s been working for the last few hours, but it’s still a little chilly here, so I want you to be aware of that before you show up. If you want to go somewhere else, then I don’t blame you, but of course you’re always welcome.”

“I’ll bring some extra blankets.”

“I’ll get the hot chocolate ready,” Tim replied, a smile audible in his voice. 

True to his word, two steaming mugs of hot cocoa were ready and waiting when Martin arrived at Tim’s home. It was indeed a bit colder than usual, but it wasn’t unbearable with an extra layer, and it was infinitely preferable to Martin’s own place. 

“Any progress on finding a new flat?” Tim asked as they both added excessive amounts of marshmallows to their drinks and plopped on the couch. 

It was something Martin had been looking into, given that he could scarcely spend a peaceful night in the apartment he’d owned before Jane Prentiss showed up. But between anxiety, money problems, his mother living nearby, and many late hours at the Archives, he hadn’t gotten far in the process. 

“Not really,” he admitted. “I haven’t had much of a chance to look into it.”

“Well, you’re always welcome here,” Tim reiterated. “If I had a two bedroom, I’d offer you just move in here properly.”

Martin blushed and buried his smile in his drink. “You’ve already done more than enough for me.” 

“Martin… it’s-”

Before either could say anything more, there came a loud clanking noise from behind the wall and the lights flickered, but stayed on. 

“Dammit,” Tim groaned, then stood and stepped over to a vent. “Yup, there it goes again; heat’s out. ‘Call us again in the morning if it’s still acting up,’ they said. Well, that doesn’t help us _now_ , does it?”

As he returned to the couch, he picked up one of the extra blankets Martin had brought with him and tossed it to him, collecting one for himself as well. 

“If you want to head somewhere else, that’s fine. You won’t hurt my feelings,” Tim said as he pulled the blanket up over himself and huddled over his mug. 

“No, no. If you don’t mind me staying-”

“Not at all.”

Martin couldn’t help but notice how Tim’s hands shook around the cup of hot cocoa and the shiver that sent shockwaves through him. He’d been dealing with intermittent heating all day, and it was clearly starting to wear on him. 

As Martin adjusted his own blanket, he draped it over Tim’s legs in addition to his own, and leaned in close, wrapping an arm around Tim’s shoulders. Tim practically spilled his cocoa as Martin did so.

“Is that okay?” Martin asked. “You look cold, so…”

“It’s… good. Thank you.”

Tim rested his head into Martin’s shoulder with a contented sigh. Neither of them had been this comfortable in ages. They sat like that for hours, chatting about flats and work and hobbies, going through hot cocoa and Irish coffee, while cuddled up together to fend off the cold and the world. 

The heat, however, refused to turn back on. As midnight chimed in, Tim carefully asked, “Listen, I’m not trying to… but it’s going to get cold. Colder. If you want to share the bed, just for a little extra warmth, you’re welcome to. I don’t snore _that_ loud,” he added with a smile. 

“Yes, yes, you do,” Martin laughed. “I can hear it through the door.”

Tim chuckled as well. “All the same.”

Martin hesitated, then nodded. It was a good idea, and it wasn’t as if they hadn’t spent the last few hours wrapped up together. “And it’s not like we’ll both fit on the couch,” he joked. 

Individually, they went through their usual nighttime routines, until Martin stepped into Tim’s bedroom and crawled into the open space left for him. Both of them scooched closer together, but stopped before their bodies could touch to provide some separation. It certainly was warmer with the two of them under the covers, and Martin found an even deeper safety as they whispered goodnight, nothing but a pillow between them. 

Despite the intention to allow each other some privacy in the bed, when Martin awoke in the morning his forehead was pressed to Tim’s chest, and Tim’s arms wrapped weakly around his waist. It was warmer now – the heat must have turned on at some point throughout the night – and there was no reason for them to be so close for the sake of warmth. 

As Martin looked over Tim’s features in the early morning light that snuck through the window, as he felt him breathe in sync, as he felt the way Tim’s fingers traced sleepy designs into Martin’s back, he realized something: 

It may have started as a fake relationship, but he’d fallen for Tim, and fallen hard. Every moment spent with him felt like an oasis in a desert of horribleness, and he craved having him around, savoring each touch, no matter how innocuous. With Tim’s lips right there, all Martin wanted to do was kiss him. 

He allowed him to sleep on, though, of course. Kissing him while sleeping with no warning, no explanation? That was super creepy. Instead, Martin just nuzzled his face back into Tim’s chest and rested there, breathing him in. 

“Good morning,” Tim finally muttered, his voice cracking with sleepiness and a subtle laughter at their position. 

“Good morning,” Martin repeated, shifting to look at him and thereby relinquishing his position pressed up against his chest. 

“I hope you… uh, stayed warm?” 

Martin laughed, and Tim chuckled too. “I did. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And… thank you, too.”

They continued to look at each other, drinking in every fleck of light in their eyes and the curves of their lips, in silence, until Martin summed up his courage. 

“Tim, listen, I…”

Before he could continue or find the right words to explain his feelings, Tim shifted and detached himself from Martin’s grasp in an instant. He was up and out of bed, grabbing clean clothes and barely even turning back to give an explanation. 

“I’m sorry, I… I need to get going. You can see yourself out, right? You know where everything is. Okay? Yeah.”

Frazzled and shaking from something other than the cold, Tim darted out of the room, and then he was gone. 


	7. The Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Martin finally talk about their feelings and the relationship they find themselves in.

It wasn’t as if Tim wanted to cut Martin out. It was more that, as their intimacy grew, the more his guilt increased as well. The pretense had been stupid, but every moment with Martin and, _god_ , the way it had felt to be held in his arms, to be pressed up against him with no pretending, only made Tim fall deeper and deeper for him. He’d gotten too invested. 

The fake relationship was for Martin to end up with _Jon_ , he reminded himself. He just wanted to feel what it was like for a few weeks, and then let Martin be happy with the man he _actually_ liked. But it had been a couple months now, and their casual domesticity only made Tim fear the moment that it would all end. 

The way Martin had looked at him that morning? Tim _had_ to distance himself, remind himself that it was all fake, it was all pretend, and it all needed to conclude soon, before he was irreparably damaged by this scheme he’d created. 

So, he kept away from Martin as best he could. Surely it would only lay the seeds of a final argument that sent Martin into Jon’s waiting arms anyway, which was the _plan_ , after all. He felt bad if Martin really did need a place to stay to get away from his flashbacks of Jane Prentiss, but he hadn’t called in the few days since Tim bailed in the morning; though Tim didn’t know if that was because he hadn’t been plagued by worm nightmares or if he didn’t want to intrude after getting so rudely dismissed. 

And every moment ate away at him, every time he looked away as Martin watched him across the Archives, every time he found himself making a mug of tea for Martin and then dumping it out, every time he woke up and found himself alone…

Tim showed up to the Institute holiday party by himself. He didn’t know if Martin even planned on coming, but just made casual excuses whenever someone would ask if they’d seen him, before moving on, grabbing another drink, and sidestepping any other awkward conversations. The party consisted of the normal activities: someone spiked the eggnog, Jon fell back on talking about work when he was forced into speaking, excessive amounts of mistletoe decorated the space, and the karaoke set blasted _All I Want for Christmas is You_ the entire night. As usual. 

He tried to go through the motions, but even something as simple as holiday festivities weighed on him, particularly as he glanced anxiously to the door every time someone arrived at the party, both hoping and fearing that it would Martin. Hiding himself on the roof to get some air, concealed by some haphazardly tossed garland, Tim didn’t notice that partygoers were starting to trickle out, and one particular guest had just arrived. 

“Tim?”

He practically stumbled over with surprise before turning to face Martin, who stood hesitantly at the doorway to the stairwell. 

“Martin, hi,” he said, trying to act normal. “I didn’t know if you’d be here tonight or not.”

“Well, I got here later than expected. I had to take care of something with my mum… anyway, are you alright?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Martin looked at him with his head cocked and a worried smile before stepping closer. 

“Did I… Did I do something wrong? Please, tell me if I did, so I can apologize and make sure I don’t do it again.”

“No, no, god, Martin, you didn’t do anything.” Despite his insistence, it probably didn’t help Martin feel better that Tim couldn’t meet his gaze. 

“I just… you left really quickly that morning and, I know I… we… and you haven’t been around much since. I thought, maybe it was something I did that night, or something I said, but…” Martin absentmindedly scratched the back of his head. “Did… something else happen? Is there anything I can do?”

Tim shook his head while letting out a short, breathy laugh. Even when Tim was acting so cruelly toward him, Martin showed him only kindness. 

“It’s… it’s just me. I’m sorry for taking it out on you.”

“It’s okay,” Martin assured him. His eyes then flickered upwards and he chuckled. “Mistletoe.”

“What?”

Martin pointed upwards to the clump of greenery hung above them. 

“There’s no one around,” Tim said, backing away slightly. “There’s no reason for us to pretend.”

“I’m not pretending,” Martin replied. 

Carefully, giving Tim every chance to stop him, Martin stepped closer and closer, then gently pressed his lips to Tim’s for a short moment. He pulled backwards a fraction of an inch, looking over his face, gauging his reaction, before Tim kissed him back with desperation. Martin’s hands tugged on the lapels of Tim’s jacket while Tim cupped Martin’s face with his chilly hands, and for a few, long, breathless moments, there was no pretense; nothing but the two of them and all the feelings they’d failed to convey. 

When they finally broke apart, foreheads resting together, they giggled and held each other tight. 

“There’s something I need to tell you-” They both said at the same time once their breath returned, eliciting another bout of giggles. 

“Go ahead,” Martin said, and Tim nodded. 

“I… Martin, I have feelings for you.”

“How convenient – that’s what I was going to tell you.”

“No, listen, I… I’ve had feelings for you long before I came up with this stupid fake dating thing.”

Martin backed away slightly, scanning Tim with skeptical eyes. 

“I really meant it as a way to make Jon jealous and get you with him, I _really_ did. I just… I thought, what if I could pretend you liked me too? I could help set you up with the person you _actually_ liked, and… I just couldn’t stop thinking about what it would feel like for you to look at me the way you always looked at him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Just ask me out, without all the pretending?”

Tim scoffed. “Would you have said yes?”

“That’s not the point,” Martin replied, pulling himself from Tim’s grip. Tim didn’t stop him. 

“I know it was wrong,” Tim admitted. “I thought… I don’t know. I could pretend for a while and then you would be happy with the guy you wanted, and we would both go on, neither the wiser, and it would all be fine. But… every day I spend with you, every time I look at you or hear you laugh, I just fall harder and harder and… That’s why I left so fast the other day. I realized I was in too deep.”

Martin pondered all of this, shaking his head and opening his mouth to speak several times. Eventually, he said, “You know, if you’d accidentally developed feelings for me along the way like I did for you, then that would be one thing. But this whole… _scheme_ … it just feels… like you used me.”

“I did. I don’t know what I was thinking. I never wanted to hurt you, that was – _is_ – the last thing I’d ever want, but… I did. And I’m sorry.”

Tears were forming in Martin’s eyes, a glossy surface that reflected all of Tim’s guilt back at him a thousand times over. And Tim couldn’t take it anymore. 

“I hope you can forgive me,” he whispered. “But I understand if you can’t. I’m sorry, Martin, I’m… so sorry.” 

Again, he turned and left down the stairs before Martin could register what was happening. 

“Tim!” He called after him. “Come back, please! I want to figure this out!”

But it was too late. 


	8. The Grand Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin still doesn't know where all his emotions lie, but he does know that he loves Tim, mistakes and all. With a guarantee of honesty between them, their relationship finds a new beginning.

Martin wandered the halls of the Archives. He already had what he’d come in for on New Year’s Eve; he’d forgotten one of his jumpers and finally tracked it back to his desk. But, sweater in hand, he still meandered along, half hoping that Tim might be there. Not that he would be, of course. It was a holiday. Nobody needed to be there. 

However, Martin soon walked right into another person. Jon stepped out of his office and practically knocked into Martin while absentmindedly whispering into a tape recorder, which he immediately clicked off.

“Jon?”

“Martin?”

“What are you doing here?”

Jon’s eyes narrowed. “I might ask you the same thing.”

“I left my sweater here.” Martin held it up to demonstrate. “I don’t suppose… have you seen Tim?”

The suspicion in Jon’s eyes faded slightly and was replaced by annoyance. “No, I haven’t. He’s not here. It’s New Year’s Eve. Even you shouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t be either.”

“I was… on my way out.”

Martin scoffed. “Sure. Anyway, if you hear from Tim, can you tell him to call me? Or text me or literally communicate with me in any way?”

Jon raised an eyebrow, and Martin took that as an opportunity to explain himself, to get it all off his chest to someone uninvolved. 

“We… he told me he liked me even before this whole fake dating thing.”

“So?”

“Well, he insists he still did it all to get me with you, but this way he could also pretend that I liked him back, then somewhere along the way I _did_ start to like him back, and…” Martin sighed. “I don’t know. I’m confused. I feel kind of betrayed, but mostly flattered and still really into him? But he won’t answer my calls or read my texts. I even showed up at his house but he either wasn’t home or didn’t answer the door.”

“I’m… sorry?” Jon said. Despite his trepidation, he sounded sincere. “I’m afraid I won’t be much help.”

“It’s not your problem,” Martin said. “I’m sorry to rant at you.”

“It’s alright.” 

“Anyway. I’m going to head out. You should too,” he insisted. “At least spend the night at home instead of in the office. You could use the break.”

Jon glanced at the folder in one shaking hand and his secondary tape recorder in the other. Then he looked up at Martin and nodded slightly. 

“Happy New Year, Martin.”

“Same to you, Jon.”

He was still confused about it all, Martin realized, as he walked through the faint dusting of snow that coated London’s streets. All the same, he found himself headed toward Tim’s house, his head filled with nothing but the good memories, each of them leading up to the fact that, no matter how it started, he’d fallen in love with Tim, and nothing could change that. 

This sentiment echoing in his head, Martin knocked on the door. A light had turned on while he came up sidewalk and a silhouette had passed in front of it, so he knew that someone was in. When no one answered the door, however, Martin started knocking more aggressively. 

“Tim?” He called. “Tim, it’s Martin, please open the door.”

Still no response.

“I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

After a tangible hesitation, the door opened, and Tim stood in the threshold. 

“Hi,” he said awkwardly, barely moving aside for Martin to step in, out of the cold. 

“Tim, I want to talk to you, please.”

He nodded, but said nothing.

Martin ignored his guilty expression and heavy silence, and pressed on. “Listen, I want to say: I don’t need to forgive you. I don’t care. I don’t care how it started between us, I don’t necessarily care when your feelings for me began. What I care about is _you_ , and everything that happened between us. If our fake relationship was in any way indicative of what a _real_ relationship with you would be like, I can’t think of anything better than that. I want… I want to be with you, no pretense, no lies, just you and me. If you’ll have me, I would love to start over. The two of us, as we are, honestly and sincerely and…”

Martin trailed off, breathless from rambling and forcing the words out before either of them got too nervous and ran away. He could feel his lip trembling and his throat tightening with anxiety.

“Are you sure?” Tim finally asked. “I… If you’re sure, then I want that too. I want that so much.”

Martin smiled, then dashed forward and wrapped his arms around Tim’s neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. “What you did is so trite in the scheme of things,” Martin laughed. “But from here on out, we’re going to be straight with each other, yeah?”

As Martin released his hold, he found that Tim was smirking. “Not very straight, though.”

They both giggled and leaned in for a kiss. While their kiss under the mistletoe had been quick and hasty, making up for mistakes and filling in for uncertainty, this kiss was simple and unburdened. It was a pure reflection of the feelings they had for each other, and nothing else. 

“And, listen, Martin, if you still have feelings for Jon too, we can work with that,” Tim said while hanging up Martin’s jacket and leading him into the house. “I’ve been in a relationship where my partner dated someone else at the same time, and it’s fine.”

“I don’t know,” Martin answered honestly. “But for right now, I just want us, you and me. We can sort all that out later.”

“Deal.” 

Tim scooped Martin into his arms, and they kissed again, before falling into the couch, cuddled up together and pressing confessions into each other’s skin with their lips. 

It was the new year, a time for beginnings and fresh starts. But for the two of them, it felt like they were picking up right where they left off; and the fireworks that would later decorate the night sky had nothing on the fireworks they felt now that they were together, full of bliss and excitement, with no tall tales keeping them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and sticking with these nerds as they figure out how to deal with their emotions lol. I hope you enjoyed, and I hope you all have happy holidays for whatever (if anything) you celebrate!!! Here's to more tma shenanigans in the new year! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> If you want to find more of my writing or learn about my original projects, check out kellanswritingblog.tumblr.com, or feel free to come chat on my personal, celsidebottom.tumblr.com <3


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